


from the inside out

by twistedingenue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Jane and Darcy prepare for the best road trip ever, renovation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5509742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedingenue/pseuds/twistedingenue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane and Darcy renovate the RV and Clint needs a place to crash after SHIELD’s fall.  Everyone’s got choices in life, and sometimes it’s flooring, and sometimes you make the big ones just in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	from the inside out

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the winner of my fic prompt auction, serenityscribbles. She prompted me with _"Surrender to what is. Let go of what was. Have faith in what will be." Sonia Ricotti_
> 
> Beta graciously done by kittywings01. 
> 
> Originally written for the Fandom For Rainne fundraiser. If you'd like to know more, please see Rainne's [ tumblr](http://rainnecassidy.tumblr.com/post/118466323344/please-help) for more details.

It’s a piece of junk, but the bones still work. At least, that’s how Jane sold the idea of renovating the RV to Darcy. And they’ll need it, too. Jane’s work has landed her a speaking tour, and consults, and women in science seminars, and even one very strange invitation to a science fiction convention in Wisconsin. Darcy made her agree to that one, because it will either be a train wreck of such magnitude that she will have stories for years, or it’ll the single best part of the entire trip. Possibly both. She’s hoping for both.

It just happens to coincide with the six months that Thor has planned to be back in Asgard. Darcy has serious doubts that these things aren’t related. Jane can get wrapped up in Thor, and it’s wonderful, because he places no excess demands on her time. He wants her to research, he helps with her research in ways that are neither patronizing nor stifling, and he respects that time. Just as Jane can now respect that Thor has obligations elsewhere; with the Avengers, with Asgard, with his own friends and soldiers. He has committed himself to Earth, but he can never truly forget his home.

Darcy respects the hell out of him for that but even more for how effortlessly he respects Jane, her passions, and the ease of the relationship. It took a little settling after those first few, euphoric months, between culture clashes and the eerie reality that the world changes frightfully fast over the actions of a few, but it’s good. Darcy envies that, bid goodbye to Ian when he couldn’t do that for her, and hoped that maybe she could find someone that lived up to her newfound high expectations.

The RV isn’t as mangled as Darcy had feared, and it does actually run well. Jane’s eerie understanding of machinery extends to engines and so they head out to Thor’s place, where they’ve set up a shop for the time being. Thor had elected not to stay bound to either Stark’s tower or to SHIELD, thank goodness, but had agreed to taking some of Stark’s money and finding his own place. He’d chosen well, located near enough to Culver so that Jane could easily commute when she was teaching or researching at home base (her sabbatical in London had been nice, but schools are not infinitely forgiving of their faculty) but far enough away that with a judicious use of flannel Thor can blend in as much as possible.

As much as any unreasonably large and attractive man can possibly blend in, but no one in town is complaining.

“Well,” Darcy says, rolling the word around her lips like a drag. “It’s still probably not going to kill us.”

“I lived in it for four months, Darcy, I know it’s not going to kill us,” Jane answers, rolling out a set of plans on the garage work table. Normally, the garage is home to some project of Jane’s — a new machine or piece of equipment, mostly, but often, a small bit of make-work. She likes to fix things up, make them beautiful, merge the old and the new together.

Darcy looks askance at the plans. “Are we going to have to take turns sleeping or share the bed? Because I’m a blanket hog, you should know that.”

“Two beds. They’ll be small, but I know where to get really nice mattresses. We can make up the weight elsewhere,” Jane explains. “It’ll be nice, Darcy, a good few months together. Like old times.”

Old times for Darcy in the RV meant cleaning up while Jane stared down science like a particularly stubborn magpie and letting tomato soup condense into horrific yogurt in the sink. But Jane looks so happy, so ready to spend time with Darcy, that it’s infectious, and she’s on board. “Alright, I’m in. Point me to the demolition work, because destroying things makes me gooey inside.”

* * *

It’s not easy. Jane is still working through the renovation, and her first priority is the mechanics of it, delving deep into the guts and glory under the hood with Thor. He has a few thoughts on how to improve upon a child’s engine, Darcy hears him say to her infinite amusement. Thor generally doesn’t try to interfere with their work, other than to encourage. He’ll say that it’s because he never paid much attention to those lessons, but Darcy thinks it is for another reason. If you threw yourself even a few hundred years in the past, would you know how everything operated? She probably wouldn’t be able to figure out how to brush her teeth.

That has to be what it’s like for Thor: living in a constant historical reenactment. Constantly re-learning how the hell to brush his teeth.

So, while Jane and Thor discuss the eternal mysteries of the internal combustion engine, Darcy’s the one doing the demo work. She’s real handy with a hammer, but things like the cabinets will probably be her downfall. Jane wants to try to reuse them, in case she can’t find anything else both sturdy and light, but they need to come down so they can work on them. And the wall behind them. 

But they don’t want to come down without a fight, and Darcy’s about to call Jane and tell her that she needs to up the budget for cabinets, because these are not coming down except in pieces, when someone she doesn’t know says, “Are you wanting to save those?”

Darcy turns, still holding the door to one of the cabinets. “If we can.”

“Let me try, then.” Mystery man — hot mystery man— steps forward and into the trailer. “I’ve got some skills in teardown.” 

Darcy sets down the door and hands the man her screwdriver. What happens next can only be described as magic. The man must be magic. He is a gift sent down from the renovation gods just for her, because the cabinets come down in one piece and with no damage. “What hardware heaven did you come from? I’ve been working all day on those!”

“You loosened them up for me?” the man says through a wobbly grin. “You’re uh…damn it, I thought I knew you.”

“Darcy Lew—“

“Lewis, comes with Foster, of whom Thor speaks endlessly.” He shakes the dust off his hands before extending one out to her. “Clint Barton. I, uh, may have done some surveillance of you while you were in New Mexico?”

“May have?” Darcy says.

“My memory is a little hazy.” Clint pinches two fingers together in front of him, it’s terribly endearing and Darcy likes him already for more than just his cabinetry expertise. 

“Did you see me dance in my underwear?”

“I’m pretty sure if I did, I would remember.” He looks around. “Thor anywhere?”

“He and Jane are in the back of the garage. Jane’s trying to explain timing belts to him, and he’s trying to understand primitive technology. It’s kind of cute.”

“Show me where? I got some explaining to do and I really don’t want to do it a dozen times.” Clint leans over, picks up a backpack he must have discarded on the floor, and lets Darcy lead him from the work area to the grime and grease section of the garage.

* * *

Clint, as is turns out, is Hawkeye. Which explains how he knew Thor spoke of Jane all the time. Like, all the time, even around Darcy. If Thor was less of a puppy, it would be annoying. But Thor has a way of just sneaking Jane into the conversation, even when he’s on television. Even when he’s picking up food at the diner up past the hill, and the waitress really doesn’t care that Jane prefers the four-cheese grilled cheese over the plain american grilled cheese, but everyone just gets a smile on their face when Thor talks. He’s so besotted, he besotts the world around him.

Darcy understands that the spy world has shattered to pieces, that elaborate card houses were completely knocked over sideways and upside down by Steve Rogers, the man on a mission. She’s plunged into the file dump, even, because she’s in there. It’s part of the reason that Jane and Darcy are here, why they’ve planned this trip. Jane had been gaining traction after New York, but once the files hit the internet, she soared. Darcy was barely mentioned (her file was short, biographical information, known skills, and a delightful inventory of items that were never returned to her, and never would be), but Jane’s file painted her as a rock star. Coming here allowed them to escape a little bit before they willingly went into the madness.

It doesn’t compare at all to the story Clint tells them as they prepare dinner together. 

“I was working undercover in a tent city in —” Clint looks around. “Yeah, a place you wouldn’t expect a major arms dealer to be trafficking, through. Girls, you’d expect; drugs, sure. Rocket launchers? Not your typical opportunity for a well-organized tent city.” He can’t actually tell them where, it seems. Just because SHIELD is gone doesn’t mean that a few things aren’t still matters of national security. “Anyways, I wake up, covered in dew and sweat and only a little of my own blood because these two beefy guys have caught on to my cover. I call in and there is silence. I try using my credit card to arrange a flight and nothing. No one picks up the phone. I thought I’d been burned in the middle of a soup kitchen and internet cafe.”

“That sounds terrible,” Jane responds, her face stricken, obviously remembering the hours of Burn Notice that Darcy had subjected her to after certain events took place. If they were going to be harassed by spies and government agents, binge-watching the show was certainly the right educational opportunity to take.

“Yeah well, I owe Nat a few black eyes for that one. But then she said this would be a good place for me to lay a little low. I’m pretty sure organized street kid mafia hasn’t reached here, yet. My apartment building would have been useless.”

“You’d think that if you just got run out of there, they wouldn’t keep chasing you,” Darcy pokes at her mental timeline. The fall of SHIELD was a few weeks ago, and sure, dust was settling, but that just doesn’t make sense to her.

“I may have made off with a rental truck full of…” A wolfish grin spread across Clint’s face, “Well, again, secrets are still secret. I took them somewhere where they’d be disposed of.”

“You took them to Stark?” Thor asks.

“Well, they did have his name on them. Figured it was as good as an ‘if lost, please return to’ sticker.” Clint sighs. “I’d been home for three days, most of them spent asleep, when I woke up to bullets coming through my window.”

Obviously, he had survived, but it did mean that he wanted to get out of New York. Stark had offered the tower, but he would have more or less been trapped there and his tenants would still be at risk. “It’s pretty fortunate that they’re more or less used to weird shit happening at the building. This is more along the lines of ‘same shit, different mafia’.”

And that’s how Clint Barton came to Thor’s home-very-far-away-from-home. He’s a quiet houseguest, if you ignore all the ways he isn’t. He sets the fire alarm off whenever he cooks (but yet, the bacon is perfect every single time), and he sings off-key in the shower, and on-key under his breath whenever he’s shooting arrows into hay bales.

He just doesn’t keep to himself. Not at all. He mucks around on the property, spends quiet time on the couch with a tablet in Jane’s makeshift office, and wrestles with Thor. It’s like watching a sweet and careful mastiff play with a rambunctious pug. But above all, he’s in the garage. He’s in the garage critiquing Darcy and Jane’s design choices.

“Carpet would be warmer on the colder mornings,” Jane argues. “And we can get a high traffic pile so it holds up better.”

“But it will be disgusting within two months. They hold dust so tight, we can never really get anything clean. It’s easier to keep laminate clean. A broom rather than a stick vacuum, which means less weight and better gas mileage.”

“RV carpet is never as comfortable on your bare feet as you think it is,” Clint says from a toolbox that he’s inexplicably sorting. They didn’t ask him to do that, but he’s methodically finding space for everything, rather than Jane’s haphazard organization.

“See?” Darcy spreads her fingers towards Clint and gestures at Jane. “See, the organizing man agrees with me.”

“Laminate tile is ugly.” Jane’s stubborn lip juts out.

“Oh, and corporate carpet is that much better?” Darcy sniffs. “They make laminate that looks like hardwood. It’ll be pretty. And easier to clean.”

“Get a rug!” Clint yells. “Foster’s right. It can get cold at night and in the morning. Get comfy rugs.”

“Can they be a shag monstrosity?” Jane asks with a grin.

“They will be disgusting and the most terrible dorm room decor you have ever seen.”

Darcy collects her car keys and her phone. “Come on Hawkeye, let’s use your noble eyes and pick out some flooring at ye olde Home Depot.”

“Nothing too light or dark, okay, Darce?” Jane says, and the only reason Jane isn’t going with Darcy is because Jane has no ability to stop herself from buying everything in sight at a hardware store. It’s a lifelong habit, born out of building her own inventions and her father’s encouragement at every step. So, Jane sees the store as a candy land; it takes hours just to make a circuit around the aisles. Jane is not allowed to go to Home Depot without more supervision than just Darcy.

Clint’s an unknown. Darcy doesn’t know if he’ll just encourage her even more or if he’ll be level-headed and helpful in the face of Jane the builder, the inventor, and the deal-finder.

It takes about 20 minutes to drive into town and Clint mostly drowses in the passenger seat. Or maybe he’s watching out the window with his eyes almost closed, Darcy can’t tell.

“You ever done anything like this before?” Darcy asks when they turn into the parking lot.

“Renovate an RV?” Clint squeezes his eyes shut tight and then opens them with several quick blinks. “Yeah, but not with anything resembling a budget. Or anything that we’d get at a store. Mostly leftovers from construction sites.” He rolls his eyes. “Well, maybe they weren’t leftovers. I didn’t judge. I shared an RV with my brother and...” Clint trails off, ending that line of thought as sure as his door opens and slams shut behind him.

Darcy doesn’t press it, though, not while they walk through the store. She’s stopped herself from oversharing more than once in her life. You want to be comfortable enough with someone to tell them things, but you aren’t there with them, you aren’t on the same wavelength, yet. It feels like a privilege to be on the precipice of understanding.

“Jane hates dark woods more than light woods.”

“Why do you know that?” Clint asks, tapping on the display model of the various options for flooring.

“Does Natasha like paint or wallpaper?” Darcy asks in response.

“Wallpaper for an accent, she likes patterns — okay, I see what you mean. You spend enough time together, you talk —”

“And Jane and I have been in each other’s pockets for years. We’ve been in a half dozen houses together, searched for apartments and work space.” Darcy pulls a piece of flooring down from the shelf. It’s a darker cherry, which she prefers, but she pushes it back into the shelf.

“Hickory. Still in the middle range, but it’s warmer.” Clint moves around the aisle, knocking on every few pieces. “Do you care how realistic it is?”

“I am renovating an RV so that we can go on a science tour of America. Mostly, I care that I won’t fall through the floor and that I can clean up the inevitable coffee spills easily.”

Clint stops in front of one and showcases it, framing it in his hands. Darcy tilts her head considering. It is rather perfect. The wood is probably a little darker than Jane would like, but screw that, it’s Darcy’s decision. It’s solid without being overbearing, and sturdy enough to withstand daily living. That was the problem with the RV before, it was meant for camping, not for a permanent residence.

But this would be an easy install, and it will look good in the small space. “Winner. Let’s go find some fuzzy carpets to go with this.”

* * *

Clint just gravitates to the RV project after that. Thor helps put in the floor, too big for the small space, and Darcy has to declare that after the flooring, Thor is done. He just won’t fit comfortably after they start adding furniture and installing the kitchenette. “Thor, buddy…” Clint says, holding up his phone and shooting a video, “Do they make Asgardians in a smaller size? Like a fun-sized version?”

Thor smiles with largesse and good spirits. “Hogun is not particularly large. He’s of a size with you, I believe.”

“Aw man, I can’t use that, can’t you rag on Stark or something. He’s like, half of me.” Clint turns his phone on himself. “Yes you are, trust me on this.” Clint taps the screen and shoves the phone into his back pocket. “So if you and Jane ever want to live the open road lifestyle, we’re going to have to renovate like, a semi for you two.”

“Jane’ll be fine,” Darcy mutters.

“Jane can live in a thimble if it came down to it,” Clint agrees. “Pocket sized.”

“Darcy!” Jane calls over from where she has her laptop perched on the hood of the engine, “Microwave or toaster oven?

“If you like cookies, you’d choose the toaster oven.” Darcy raises her voice so that Jane can hear her then lowers it to talk to Clint. “Everyone likes cookies after hours of driving. Can you grab my list there for me?” Darcy has to check who is supposed to cover the dinette chairs. Neither of them were particularly keen on upholstery but the original booth seating was in terrible shape, stained and ripped. Jane had picked out a pinterest-worthy blue and white chevron and there was already a heated battle over who was actually going to do the work.

With the list in hand, Darcy confirms the worst, it’s her job. And it should be up next. The dining area is the next to go in, to start blocking in the space from each end. The sleeping area, with their two dorm-sized beds go in at about the same time, built in and with the best mattresses they could find. They’ve laid down new laminate in the bathroom, repainted the vanity and cleaned the shit out of the shower and toilet. None of them wanted to deal with the plumbing or septic.

“What would you like me to do?” Clint says, popping up over her shoulder, close enough that his breath moves her hair. When Darcy tilts her head to be able to see his face, it’s clear he has a real interest in the work. “I don’t have much to do around here, Lewis. I’m good with my hands, put me to work.”

“You any good with a staple gun?”

“Okay, anything that isn’t crafting. My aim doesn’t extend that far. “ He takes the list from Darcy’s hands and disappears with it for a few minutes while Darcy starts laying out fabric and pulls up the tutorial on youtube. When he comes back, several of the labor-intensive and more onerous tasks from both Darcy’s and Jane’s sides are highlighted in a purple. “I’ll do these, if you don’t mind.”

The list slips from his hands to hers with a smile, and Darcy grins. Jane really didn’t want to do the installation of the appliances — for someone so mechanically inclined, it was a task she hated. But couldn’t put it on Thor, and it wasn’t Darcy’s cup of tea either. 

“We can put the cabinets in together?” She says and Clint shrugs in acknowledgment, “I’ll write out a new list, then.”

* * *

Things go into the RV and dust mostly gets swept or vacuumed out. Jane has a presentation to make back at Culver, part of her negotiation with the school now that the scope of her work has drastically changed from a not-very-well-balanced teaching to research load to superstar physicist, who brings prestige and honor to an institution previously best known for — well, known for being the site of a Hulk rampage. She gives a few lectures and, in exchange, the university gets to keep Jane Foster.

Which leaves Darcy and Clint to work on the RV. That’s more than okay. Clint knows how to be quiet when needed, but more often can keep up a light chatter and sarcastic remark parade. And Darcy’s learning a few new curse words in languages she doesn’t know thanks to his sour mouth. 

“How long do you have on the countertops?” Darcy’s painted the cabinets a soft gray and talked Jane into butcher block. It’s what she’d want if she had the choice and ability to live somewhere that she actually pays for, a place that’s her own. 

“I’ll have them ready once the cabinets are in, so let’s work those in now.” Clint runs a hand over the edge of the block as he stands up, using it as a leverage.

Clint brings them in and Darcy screws the lower set into place, strong and secure, and they move around each other, comfortable in the small space together. Clint’s muscle comes in handy hanging the upper half, and she’s suddenly acutely aware of just how close he is to her, hearing his breath, seeing the strain in his arms, and the hitch of his chest.

He’s stunning and she quickly has to get over that to finish the job, dancing together with power tools, she’ll be gone soon and he’ll have waited out the bum mafia or whatever, and they’ll see each other from time to time, since they run in the same circle of people. But today, she just has work to get done. There’s a deadline. They don’t have long before their tour begins and Darcy needs to start shifting her work from constructing an RV to constructing a more detailed travel plan.

“I used to hate this,” Clint says suddenly, and he looks like he can’t believe he just said that aloud. His face scrunches and he looks at Darcy expectantly. Like he’s waiting to see if she noticed he had spoken. 

Of course Darcy noticed — her job is all about noticing, and smoothing the bumps out of the road — she takes notice of what people say, and what they don’t. But she keeps her expression neutral, letting him decide if he wants to continue. He looks so goddamn grateful for that, and maybe it’s what grants him the permission he needs to continue. “When I was a kid, I, uh, was with a traveling circus, and we lived out of trailers and RVs. Bunch of us kids all tumbled together in one trailer at night. Someone was always renovating, changing shit, and we were close enough to free labor. They just had to feed us or promise us someplace quiet to sleep. But they’d work us to the quick and not too nicely for all that quiet.”

“How’d you deal?”

“Hard work is hard work. I was used being treated like crap by the guy training me for our act. One more person now and then.” He shrugs. “At least I was doing something useful. Better than.” This is where story time stops, it seems.

“Sounds like shit,” Darcy says.

“It was, but I didn’t know it at the time. I wasn’t getting knocked around anymore, I was fed on the regular, I had something to do. Everything else just was. When you don’t know what a normal life is, the taste of scraps is just as good.”

“Hell of a way to live,” Darcy says, and they are near about done with securing the cabinets into place, and Darcy’s eyeing the butcher block with a sigh. “Let’s take a breather once we have these in place.” 

The cabinets hold steady and Darcy sits down, knees up and then lays back against the floor. Clint looks down at her, his smile verging on fond. “Here’s what I think, though: are you eating the scraps? How long have you been working for Foster?”

“With Foster.”

“With Foster, for Foster, whichever, moonchild; how long have you been working for her? How many years? How many have you actually been paid for?”

“Just the last year.”

“How have you been managing that, anyways? Most people when they don’t have an income for what, five years, they aren’t generally….”

“One word. Plastics.” Darcy says deadpan, covering her eyes with her arm. There are things that Darcy doesn’t really want to tell, because she wasn’t supposed to waste the investments her grandparents made for her but what else is money for if not youthful indiscretions and science? 

Clint chuckles. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for the money to run out?” Darcy lifts herself up to her elbows. “Look, I got choices in life. Go to school and change the world. Well, the world is changing whether I’m driving it or not. I’ve got a good spot to watch it from, I surrender to it. This is what I want to do, be at the edge of where that’s happening. And then one day…”

“You’ll leapfrog your way to the front of the line?”

“Scout’s honor. It’s faith, Clint, faith that when the time comes I’ll be at the front of the line.” But until then, she’s not afraid of hard work and times of sheer terror. It will all come out well in the end. Jane doesn’t need a babysitter, but she needed a friend and someone who believed in her and her work, even when she’d had faltered in believing in her own worth.

“Yeah, I can see you doing that. Just don’t be like me and find yourself on the top of a mountain you don’t remember climbing.” Clint sits down next to her feet and plays with her knees, knocking them against each other. “Because one day you’ll wake up and find yourself as part of some weird superhero team and own a building in Bed-Stuy and you’ll wonder what the hell you are doing.”

“I don’t think I’ll have that particular trouble.” Darcy laughs and Clint...well, Clint winks and tells her to get up and get back to work.

* * *

Things move along. With the kitchen done, the appliances installed, and the furniture put into place, it came down to the decorating and filling the RV with all the things they will need for months on the road. She lays in dishes and towels, buys a sheet and comforter set that would have made her dorm room luxurious, and carefully chooses a wardrobe that can span the seasons and the country. And one day, the RV is done. They’ve bought food, and toilet paper, and Jane has carefully figured out what equipment she can bring in between taking time at a few facilities.

Everything is meticulously planned and it’s done, and they all need to leave. The heat’s off of Clint, and Thor needs to go back to Asgard, and it’s weird to think that this house they’ve shared for the past few weeks is going to be empty. Clint’s promised to look in on the place, and they’ve hired a carefully vetted caretaker for the property.

They throw a party before they leave, for them, the nearest neighbors, and a few people from town that Thor had befriended while there. It’s loud and boisterous, and for all the joy that the night brings, Darcy can’t shake a sense of melancholy. She’s liked the relative quiet, the change of pace from the nightmare they encountered in London. And being able to actually spend time with Thor that’s more than just a few days at a time has been wonderful. And Clint — well, Darcy’s really grateful for Clint. He’s solid, and funny, and when Jane got wrapped up in Thor, she didn’t have to be a third wheel.

The night ends with spectacle, the stragglers being treated to Thor calling to Heimdal. He spends more than a few minutes with Jane in private before coming out to the yard, and Jane’s hair is more than a little mussed and her big eyes are holding back tears. Jane feels so strongly it makes Darcy feel more. Thor gives his goodbyes to all, with Clint and Thor exchanging a handshake that turns into a bone crunching hug. 

Before walking down the yard a ways he lifts Darcy up as he embraces her. “Take good care of my Jane. Let her shine, and remember to take care of yourself, too.”

“Just come back this time,” Darcy says, squeezed for breath.

“You have my word.” 

Thor and Jane walk away, and Darcy doesn’t watch their last few moments together. A heart can break only so much. It doesn’t matter how smart or capable Jane is, when you love someone and you won’t see them for so long? It’s a stillborn, hopeless few seconds before you have to gets your wits about you and keep going. She doesn’t need to see that sort of intimacy between them.

But Clint watches, and his expressionless facade breaks, and his gaze shifts uncomfortably from the couple to Darcy. The facade breaks even more, quickly resolving into an impudent and impish lift to his brow. The thunder clashes behind Darcy and she closes her eyes, just briefly, hoping for Thor’s safe return.

Jane joins them, and the last few guests see themselves out. “We should get some sleep, we’ve got a full day of driving ahead of us,” she says, resolutely, and Darcy puts an arm around her. Clint links on the other side and, together, they escort Jane to the bedroom she had been sharing with Thor.

“Do you need a little cuddle before bed?” Darcy asks, trying to lighten the mood a little bit. And it works, Jane laughs and kisses the side of Darcy’s forehead.

“I’ll be fine. Go to bed.” 

Jane kicks Darcy out gently, throwing pillows at her, and Clint laughs. Pitched high and a furious giggle. “Can I get a little cuddle?” Darcy pushes him out the door, following behind him.

“You are a little shit, and I’m going to miss you,” Darcy says, pulling him into a hug when Jane’s door closes. She leans up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. 

And misses. Clint’s hands tighten on her back, and, if he was surprised by her lips on his, he doesn’t show it. If anything, he yields to her. It’s a good kiss, and she’s only pulled away for breath when he kisses her again, without hesitation, and it feels like a bud ready to blossom.

They leave tomorrow and Darcy pulls away. “Okay,” she says. “Unexpected.”

“Yeah, I’m…” Clint looks sheepish and guarded.

“We’re going to have to stay in touch while I’m gone, I think.”

“Yeah?” Clint looks at her through his lashes, pulling her closer, and she goes willingly for a third, deeper kiss. This one is a promise and a surrendering to what has begun between them. She’s leaving tomorrow, but it’s not without something to look forward to when she gets back.

**Author's Note:**

> You can always follow me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


End file.
